


Our Name in Tongues We Don't Speak

by supershinywords



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: I'm pretty sure this just became my smut account, M/M, Shameless Smut, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2445410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supershinywords/pseuds/supershinywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You're beautiful like this,” Athos panted, breath warm and moist on d'Artagnan's ear.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Name in Tongues We Don't Speak

**Author's Note:**

> There are no redeeming qualities whatsoever to this fic. Cleaned up response to the [Athos/d'Artagnan Possessive Sex](http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/2286.html?thread=2493678#cmt2493678) kink meme prompt. It starts in media res, so to speak. Seriously, there is no plot here.

d'Artagnan was driven back through the rumpled mess his blankets had become with every thrust of Athos' hips. He was overheating and his skin was sticky with the sweat they'd worked up between them. He had long ago turned his head to muffle his moans with his own pillow, but Athos merely took the opportunity to press lips, tongue, and teeth to the tendon beneath his ear and he'd taken awful, wonderful advantage of it until it didn't matter what d'Artagnan did to muffle his moans. He could only hope that the rooms to either side of his were unoccupied, even this late. 

“You're beautiful like this,” Athos panted, breath warm and moist on d'Artagnan's ear as his steady rhythm pushed d'Artagnan forward into the grip he had on his hips. “You're locked about me as though...you can think of nothing else...is that it, d'Artagnan? Would you give over everything for this?”

d'Artagnan choked out something into the pillow that may have been curse or plea as he nodded, tightening his thighs about Athos' hips even as their motions pushed them high and wider. The faint burn of the stretch had long eased as pleasure overwhelmed all other sensation. d'Artagnan's jaw tightened as Athos' voice wove its spell, but then his hips slowed.

“Was that agreement?” Athos asked, breath coming harder now. “What do you want more than anything right now? If it's mine to give, I will see to it...”

d'Artagnan sobbed into the pillow and turned his head, hand tightening in Athos' hair to hold him still as he dragged sloppy kisses over his bearded-jaw. “Don't stop, please Athos, I want nothing else but you.”

Athos breath sighed over his ear and hips resumed their previous pace. “I would have this all the time, if I could,” he murmured. “I would give you all of my days and my nights. Have you ever way we could manage, everywhere we could make space. You wouldn't be able to move but feel the proof of us dripping down your thighs.”

d'Artagnan's groan was far too loud and he knew it, knew he was risking discovery without even the token attempt at discretion any longer, but he couldn't help himself. 

Athos met his desperate eyes and then slid a hand over his mouth to help stifle the sounds as they moved together, only breathing in d'Artagnan's ear for a long moment while he lifted d'Artagnan's thigh high enough to support the angle of his thrusts. “So good for me, d'Artagnan...so attentive...every day I feel your eyes on me, wanting what? My attention, my time, my body?”

d'Artagnan nodded against his palm, barely moving while he took air in desperately through his nose, willing to admit all of the little things he'd thought he'd hidden now that they were here and Athos' cock was sliding into him so well, oiled as they both were and achingly well stretched as he'd been. He would tell him everything, all of the nights he'd slicked his palm with oil meant for his weapons and rubbed himself until he'd spilled, pretending it was Athos' hand gripping him, when he'd grown curious enough to test the waters by sliding his own oiled fingers behind his sac and into himself, wondering if it was something Athos would enjoy. It wasn't nearly this good then as it was now, with Athos forcing his thighs wide and pressing one of his knees up, so his cock could continue to slide over the spot in him that sent sunbursts of pleasure through him. 

Athos hitched his grip higher, his fingers sliding in the sweat they had built between them. “You should know you have me...I am your creature. I'll leave my seed as proof of my mark... Never leave your side...”

d'Artagnan couldn't take it anymore, hands sliding from Athos' back to tug back the hand covering his mouth and pulling Athos' face over, knocking him from the rhythm but pulling him even deeper than he had been thrusting as he sobbed out, “yes, yes, I am yours, Athos, please,” and feeling the shock of it pass through Athos in shudders as heat spilled into him. 

Athos' heart was thunder d'Artagnan could feel where their chests rested against each other and his hips twitched for several moments after. d'Artagnan's need was held hostage by the weight of his body and the oddly sweet feeling of being filled with the proof of Athos' regard, as he'd said, and feeling also that he was likewise leaving his own mark upon the great man above him. 

After a short period, Athos recalled himself to push up on one arm and work the other between them. His eyes were a hot, sharp blue that cut straight through d'Artagnan. “Here, now d'Artagnan...show me how much you love this. I want to see.”

There was a raw honesty in his tone, still as rough and velvety as port wine to d'Artagnan's ears but different enough from the way he normally spoke that it slipped through his defenses and combined with the slick slide of sword-callused fingers to rob him of words and all sense as he circled fingers around the head of his cock and gathered the nearly clear fluid he'd been leaking for what felt like hours and rubbing it back into his own skin. Climax startled d'Artagnan with the speed and intensity, hitting him like a landslide and painting the world in colors he had no words for. The sounds torn from his throat then felt like invocation, no language he could recognize but all of it in praise.

When he came back to himself, Athos had dropped his head to d'Artagnan's shoulder and was pressing soft kisses that scratched pleasantly from his beard over the skin there, murmuring, “So beautiful, so good, love you so much, d'Artagnan...” 

d'Artagnan dragged hands trembling with reaction up Athos' back to cup his neck and jaw. “I am yours, Athos,” he whispered, heart still racing in his chest even as he stroked his fingers through Athos' sweat-damp hair. “Never doubt how much of me you own.”

Athos stilled for a moment, then kissed d'Artagnan's throat, the soft skin beneath his jaw, his mouth, each press gentle but certain. “I could not. You would never allow me to.”


End file.
